


Straight on 'Til Morning: Part I

by calathea



Series: Staight On Til Morning [1]
Category: I Want To Go Home! - Gordon Korman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-04 19:23:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18350120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calathea/pseuds/calathea
Summary: "That's Miller. He made a Vulcan cry once."----The Star Trek: AOS/Kormanfic fusion that nobody has ever asked for.





	1. Part 1: Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am ignoring any ST: AOS canon after the first AOS movie, mainly because I haven't seen any of the sequels. I am very 'canon? what canon?' about the Academy. This is an active WIP, and I will post chapters as I finish them.

The first minute or two after the doors closed and the shuttle craft lifted off were quiet, except for some soft sniffling from somewhere in the rows behind Mike. He was just peering through the side window for a last look at the crowd of people waving goodbye by the shuttle bay – and hoping the sniffling wasn’t about to turn into full-fledged sobs, since he was pretty sure it would be contagious – when the pilot’s voice came over the speaker.  
  
“Welcome aboard once again, cadets,” said the pilot. “Our flight time to Starfleet Academy San Francisco today will be one hundred and two minutes, although there may be a short delay on arrival due to the volume of air traffic expected on campus today. Enjoy the flight, I’ll let you know when we’re within a few minutes of landing.”  
  
The speaker clicked off. At the front of the shuttle, one guy immediately put in earbuds and slumped, arms crossed and eyes closed, into his seat. Everyone else started to glance around, exchanging nervous smiles. There were twelve cadets in the shuttle, but for all Starfleet Eastern Canada wasn’t a big campus Mike didn’t recognize more than a couple of people. There was nobody on board he’d even consider to be an acquaintance, let alone a friend. However, it seemed like most people were in the same position as he was. As they had boarded, most of the cadets had taken a seat on their own. There were a couple of human women sitting together who obviously knew each other, and a pair of sibling Denosians in a seat together just in front of Mike. They, at least, were slightly familiar – he’d seen them around campus, their vivid colouring making them stand out in any human-dominated crowd – but he’d never spoken to them that he recalled. Other than that, the cadets seemed to be mainly human and nearly all were strangers to Mike.  
  
“Are we all Capstones, then?” one of the cadets said eventually. His red cadet uniform was too big for him, and Mike wondered vaguely whether he was expecting to grow into it during the year.  
  
Everyone was nodding. “I heard there were twelve of us this year,” said one of the women. “I’m Cathy Burton. Medical.”  
  
“Diane Grant. Xenobiology,” said her seat-mate.  
  
The Denosian siblings blinked at one another, and then turned to smile impartially around the shuttle craft.  
  
“I am Andrelene Sguthotik Nakai, and this is my sibling, Andrelene Sguthotik Nakith. You may address us as Kai and Kith,” said the one on the right. The one on the left nodded.  
  
“Where are you from?” said Baggy Uniform. Mike felt his eyebrows rise at his tone of voice, and the Denosians swiveled to look at Baggy Uniform in unison. They blinked at him, then tilted their heads to the right before turning to make eye contact with one another for a moment. Baggy Uniform looked unnerved, and rather like he wished he hadn’t asked the question.  
  
“Our clan – our species – originates from the planet Denos,” said Kai, finally, as they turned back to face Baggy Uniform. Kai didn’t sound offended, but Mike kind of wished he’d been close enough to give Baggy Uniform a discouraging nudge anyway. Eastern Canada wasn’t the most diverse campus in Starfleet, but there was no reason to behave like he’d never met someone from off-planet before. “But part of our clan has been settled here on Earth at Arctic Station Four for the last twenty years.”  
  
“Oh!” said Diane. “I though I recognized the name. I think I read a paper by a member of your clan on biodiversity in the region, maybe?”  
  
“Yes, our elders are widely published on the subject,” said Kai. Kith nodded. They turned to look at one another again and blinked deliberately a couple of times.  
  
“But you’re on the Engineering track with me, right?” said another cadet. “I’m Harold. Harold Green. I remember you killing the curve in Intro to Warp Core.”  
  
“We are,” said Kai, and Kith nodded vigorously. “We have been—“  
  
“Does only one of you speak?” said Baggy Uniform, interrupting Kai. Mike really wished he were close enough to nudge him this time. The Denosians blinked at him, tilting their heads to the left and staring at him silently.  
  
“Denosians live in sibling pairs,” said Mike, after a long, very awkward pause. “The pairs contain a Speaker and a Non-Speaker.”  
  
Kai and Kith turned and bowed their heads slightly to Mike. “That is correct,” said Kai. “I am Speaker for both of us.”  
  
“Oh,” said Baggy Uniform, looking sulky. He seemed about to ask another question so Mike hurried to speak before he could shove his foot in his mouth again.  
  
“I’m Mike Webster,” he said, “Communications.”  
  
“Really? I didn’t even know you could be a Capstone on the Comms track,” said another guy, sneering a little. “Cadet Jacob Martins. My father is Vice-Admiral Martins, you might have heard of him,” he said, pompously, when everyone turned to look at him. “I’m in Command track, of course.”  
  
Mike caught the eye of a woman sitting behind Martins, who looked unimpressed. “Of course you are,” she said, dryly. She winked at Mike when their eyes met. “Ree Singh,” she added. “My dad’s a community police officer, so you won’t have heard of him.”  
  
She glanced at Jacob. “I’m in Communications, too,” she said, looking over at Mike.  
  
Mike nodded. “We’ve not been in many classes together that I can remember. You did kick my and everyone else’s ass in Advanced Klingon last year though,” he said, grinning.  
  
Ree grinned back. “I liked Advanced Klingon,” she said, cheerfully. “So many new and interesting ways to start a blood feud just by asking about the weather.”  
  
Everyone laughed. Two cadets at the back of the shuttle introduced themselves as Piotr Kowalski – who Mike thought might have been the sniffler when they got on board – and Danielle Jones, who were both in the Navigation track. They drifted off quickly into a side conversation about what and where they’d flown and what they wanted to fly and… Mike tuned out quickly, as did everyone else after a couple of minutes.  
  
“How should we address you?” Kai asked Baggy Uniform in the lull in the conversation.  
  
Baggy Uniform jerked as if someone had poked him. “Oh, uh,” he said. “I’m Joe. Joseph White. Xeno.”  
  
“Xeno?” asked Diane, frowning at him. “Really?”  
  
“Xeno botany,” Joe said, frowning back. “What do you mean, really?”  
  
“Nothing,” said Diane, sitting back and exchanging a look with Cathy.  
  
There was another awkward pause. Ree cleared her throat, and nodded towards the guy at the front of the shuttle. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to any of the chatter, and his eyes were still closed. “Anyone know Sleepy over there?”  
  
“Oh, that’s Miller,” said Jacob, rolling his eyes.  
  
He looked at them all expectantly, and they all looked back at him. “I can’t believe you haven’t heard about him,” said Jacob. “I thought it was all over campus. Rudy Miller? He’s in Command too.”  
  
Mike glanced around. Diane and Cathy were staring thoughtfully at the slumped figure at the front of the shuttle but everyone else just seemed blank.  
  
“Well, let me tell you then,” Jacob said. He looked over at Rudy and then ducked low in his seat and lowered his voice. “He’s such a jerk, I don’t even know how he got a Capstone place. And I heard he almost refused it when it was offered, and they ended up bribing him to take it because they’re so desperate to get rid of him out of the Eastern Canada programme. I mean,” he said, when everyone turned to look at Miller in surprise, “He made a Vulcan cry one time!”  
  
He sat back with a self-satisfied expression, while everyone alternated between staring at him and staring at Rudy Miller’s unresponsive back. Mike frowned.  
  
“You’re making that up,” said Harold, finally.  
  
“It seems very unlikely a young human male could make a Vulcan cry,” said Kai, after exchanging blinks with Kith. “Unless perhaps he were to have kicked a male Vulcan in the genital area.”  
  
Diane, who’d started nodding in agreement with Kai’s statement, stopped abruptly. “Why would he have kicked a Vulcan in the genital area?”  
  
“Why would anyone kick a Vulcan anywhere? They don’t seem like the kind of species you go around indiscriminately kicking,” said Cathy. “Though, that said, I’ve never actually met a Vulcan. Maybe they’re very irritating in person. You know, prone to terrible pick up lines or something.”  
  
“Should you kick one though?” said Diane. “The Vulcans need to rebuild their population. You can’t go round giving them a swift boot in the nuts, even if they have the worst pick-up lines in the universe. You might affect the gene pool.”  
  
“I’m fairly sure they have the technology to recover from bruised tackle,” said Cathy. “And sometimes some people just need a good kick.”  
  
Harold inched away from her.  
  
“Besides,” Cathy continued, “From a gene pool perspective, do you even want someone with the worst pick-up lines in the universe procreating anyway?”  
  
“Are you advocating kicking Vulcans in the genitals, then?” said Diane. “In your capacity as a xenobiologist, for the greater good.”  
  
“I’m just saying, I don’t think the Vulcan gene pool is a sufficient reason to rule it out,” said Cathy, mock-frowning at her. “But now I’m concerned that you think deciding whether to kick people is a xenobio question. That’s the kind of thing you ask comms people.”  
  
“Would it make them cry though?” Ree asked, thoughtfully. “I mean, I feel like a lot of people would be a lot less impressed with Surak’s whole _virtuous control of extreme Vulcan emotion through logic_ thing if they knew it couldn't stand up to a kick in the balls.”  
  
“I don’t care how much control you have over your emotions,” said Mike, wincing in recollection at various incidents in his past. “You can take my word for it that a sharp impact to the groin is an overwhelmingly eye-watering experience for anyone.”  
  
Every humanoid male in the shuttle nodded fervently. Kai and Kith looked amused.  
  
“Anyone human, sure,” said Ree, flipping her hand dismissively. “But suddenly I have so many questions I never knew I needed answers to about what Vulcans keep in their pants.”  
  
“Oh, well, those _would_ be xenobiology questions!” said Cathy, cheerfully. “You wouldn’t believe my department’s collection of images of alien genitals. Also alien STIs.”  
   
Jacob, apparently feeling he’d lost control of the conversation, raised his voice to shout down Cathy before she could get into detail about alien genitals. “He didn’t kick anyone in the nuts,” he said, with exasperation. “Why did you even… He just made one cry.”  
  
“Was it over a pick up line? Did you see it happen?” asked Ree, narrowing her eyes at him.  
  
“He didn’t,” said a new voice.  
  
Everyone jerked in reaction, and turned to look at the front of the shuttle. Rudy Miller, clearly awake and paying attention, stared back at them impassively. “He didn’t see it happen, because I have never made a Vulcan cry,” he said.  
  
With that, he returned his earbud to his ear, turned around, and slouched back into his seat.  
  
“Have you kicked a Vulcan in the nuts though?” asked Ree, irrepressibly. Mike couldn’t help laughing. Miller ignored her, not even twitching a muscle in response.  
  
“Can we stop talking about Vulcan testicles now, please?” said Jacob. He had gone rather pink, and turned pinker still when Cathy and Diane looked at him skeptically. With an annoyed noise he turned around to face forward, fished a PADD out of his bag and began to read something ostentatiously.  
  
Ree caught Mike’s eye again and made a face at him, and Mike grinned back. Command cadets rarely socialized outside of their own track on campus and the few he’d met had always seemed unrepentant twits. It was weirdly reassuring that taking them off campus didn’t seem to change that.  
  
The group broke off into smaller conversations – Ree was chatting to Cathy and Diane, possibly about Vulcan genitals, so Mike made a special effort not to listen – and Harold had embarked on a conversation with Kith and Kai about something to do with their research. Since this seemed to be into some highly specialized forms of life support systems, the conversation quickly became too technical for Mike, and he sat back in his seat.  
  
He looked out the window for a while, even though there was little to see except the sky and a few puffy white clouds. When he leaned his head against the window for a moment he saw that Miller, apparently done with feigning sleep now they’d stopped talking about him, was doing the same at the front of the shuttle. He wondered if it was true that he hadn’t wanted to accept a place on the Capstone programme, and if so, if his reluctance were for the same reason Mike had been slow to accept his own place.  
  
Everyone knew that no matter what Starfleet said, people from the satellite campuses just didn’t get the same opportunities as students on the main campus when it came to deployment, and their careers tended to advance more slowly. However, over the last few years Starfleet had been so desperately short of qualified personnel after the Second Narada Incident that they’d had to try to be a bit more creative about staffing. The Capstone Programme was supposed to give promising students from the satellite campuses a chance to prove themselves. It was supposed to bring the best candidates to the attention of the ‘right’ people by doing their final, capstone, year on the main campus in San Francisco.  
  
Mike had been encouraged to apply by his student advisor, but hadn’t really expected to be chosen, despite his grades. He’d been amazed each time he made it through another round of testing and interviews. When he received the message the first week of the summer vacation that he’d been picked for the programme, he’d been distracted from his parents’ celebrations by a sudden sinking feeling of dread. He knew most people probably accepted the scholarship and place at the Academy instantly, but it had taken him almost three days to make the decision to go. In the end, he decided to go because there was always the option of only taking a single semester, rather than the full year of two semesters and a special summer deployment.  
  
It wasn’t as if he wasn’t aware of the honour, or the prestige of the programme, or even that he hadn’t considered applying to the central Academy campus way back when he was making his choices at the end of high school. It was just that, having made the decision to stay relatively local and do his four year Starfleet training at the smaller Eastern Canada satellite campus, he’d come to really love it. He’d had a great room-mate, and good friends, and being at the top of pretty much every class – except for Advanced Klingon, of course – hadn’t done his ego any harm either. He was nervously aware that his success might not translate at all to the notoriously cut-throat academic environment in San Francisco, and on top of that he wouldn’t know anyone. It seemed like a huge amount of pressure.  
  
He glanced along the shuttle again. Rudy Miller had his eyes closed, either sleeping or faking it once more.  
  
Ree suddenly sat down in the empty seat beside him, distracting him from his thoughts. “So,” she said, smiling at him. “We should definitely talk. What classes are you looking at? Are you doing any more Klingon?”  
  
He smiled back at her, and forgot about his doubts and Rudy Miller while they talked through the various options in their field. After a while Kai and Kith joined their conversation, and they’d moved on to discussing the Denosians’ experiences living in the far north when the pilot interrupted them.  
  
“Please prepare for arrival, cadets,” said the pilot. “We have a landing slot and will be on the ground in six and a half minutes.”  
  
Kai, Kith, Mike and Ree all smiled at one another nervously, and Ree rushed off to retake the seat where she’d stowed her luggage. Mike looked out the window again, feeling vaguely queasy as the shuttlecraft flew over San Francisco proper, passing the Golden Gate Bridge and then circling the massive sprawl of the Academy campus as it approached the shuttle landing bay.  
  
When they landed, though, he had no time for nerves. He and the other eleven cadets were checked in by a harried looking official, who was dealing with a dozen shuttles arriving from all over the world at once and a temperamental PADD that failed to recognize both the pilot and Joe White the first three times he scanned their credentials. Once that was sorted out, though, they were quickly led away from the hangar towards a hoverbus that took them to the main campus.  
  
“My brother was here as a Capstone two years ago,” Danielle was saying to Harold in the seat behind Mike, as the bus rattled away from the kerb. “They usually put all the Canadians together in the Elias Warden dormitory building. Well, that’s the formal name for it, but it’s called Canada House around campus. I think they think we’ll, I don’t know, spill maple syrup all over campus if they don’t keep us all together or something.”  
  
“Really? But I don’t even like maple syrup,” Harold replied, indignantly. Mike resolutely pressed his lips together against a laugh, and unexpectedly met Rudy Miller’s eyes across the bus. Miller raised his eyebrows at him, his expression blank, and then looked away.  
  
Mike looked away as well hastily. Jacob was holding forth to Kai and Kith about the history of the campus, which Mike felt embarrassed about on his behalf, given what he knew about the history of space exploration and higher education on Denos. Kai and Kith seemed to be enduring the lecture with good grace though, only tilting their heads to the right in unison occasionally as Jacob spoke.  
  
It struck him suddenly, however, that the roommate situation was a potential disaster. He could only pray he didn’t get assigned to share with either Jacob or Harold. Before he could get really worked up about it, though, the bus pulled up outside a nondescript dormitory building. It was one of a row of similar buildings, distinguishable from the others only by a small sign that probably said Elias Warden under the mass of maple leaf stickers someone had stuck to it.  
  
He disembarked from the bus with the rest of the cadets and they all spent several minutes disentangling the larger pieces of their luggage that they were just now being re-united with after the trip. Most people, Mike among them, had a couple of large duffle bags, though Joseph White had some sort of ridiculous trunk embossed with his name and the Denosians seemed to be travelling very light with just one small bag between the two of them.  
  
They had just started to make a move towards the dormitory building when the doors swung open and a pair of ensigns emerged. Mike took in their PADDs, alarmingly similar beaming smiles and the insignias on their uniforms and set his bags down again with a sigh.  
  
“Ah, a welcoming committee,” said Rudy Miller, not quite under his breath, where he’d come up at Mike’s elbow unexpectedly. “What joy.”  
  
“Hi everyone!” said the ensign on the right. “I’m Chip and I’m one of the RAs for Elias Warden house! Welcome to the start of the most exciting year of your life, as a Starfleet Capstone cadet!”  
  
There was some cheering from Jacob, Harold and Piotr, and polite applause from nearly everyone else.  
  
“Well, I hoped for more excitement than that,” said Chip, still smiling with uncanny brightness. Mike would have taken a step back but he was hemmed in by Joe’s trunk.  
  
The second cadet stepped in, apparently noticing that Chip’s enthusiasm wasn’t entirely as contagious as he was hoping. “I’m Pierre, the other RA for the building. You’re all sharing living quarters on the third floor,” he said. “I hope you’ll all be very happy here, but if you have any problems at all please don’t hesitate to come to me, or to Chip, for help.”  
  
He glanced down at his PADD, and then back at them. “Let’s get you all settled in your rooms,” he said, and he and Chip smiled their identical beaming smiles again. “If you’d just line up, we’ll get you checked in right away.”  
  
Slowly, the cadets shuffled into two ragged lines. Mike found himself at the back of one of the lines with Ree, waiting for Pierre to check him in. Miller had ended up at the back of Chip’s line. Pierre’s line took a little longer because Joe’s credentials still wouldn’t scan first time, so Mike was still waiting with Ree when Rudy reached the front of his line. “Welcome!” said Chip, smiling widely at Rudy, who just stared at him impassively. There was an awkward pause while Chip waited for Rudy to respond, only ended by Rudy silently handing him his credentials.  
  
Chip’s cheerfulness had a suggestion of gritted teeth about it when he next spoke. “You’ll be in dormitory 13 with all your new friends!”  
  
“Thirteen?” said Rudy, deadpan. “Impossible, I have triskaidekaphobia. What a shame. You’ll have to find me somewhere else to stay.”  
  
Chip paused, he finger hovering over his PADD. “You have what?” he said. His smile was now completely gone.  
  
“Fear of the number thirteen,” said Ree, helpfully.  
  
“Fear of…? Is that a recognized condition in Starfleet?” Chip said, looking over at Pierre. Pierre shrugged.  
  
“Only if you’re from Valvak VI,” said Mike, without thinking. Rudy turned slowly to stare at him.  
  
Luckily, he was distracted from his obviously murderous thoughts about Mike by Ree’s cheerful contribution. “Oh, I remember that lecture! Their religion requires them to perform a six day ritual of repentance every time they say the word thirteen.”  
  
She paused, taking in Rudy’s expressionless face. “Sorry,” she said, shrugging.  
  
Rudy sighed. “Your… helpfulness has been noted,” he said. He turned back to the RAs.  
  
“Are you from Valvak VI?” asked Pierre, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“Since I am breathing Earth atmosphere without choking to death,” said Rudy. “You can assume I’m not.”  
  
“Then sorry, no, no can do,” said Pierre. He nodded to Chip, who finished up checking Rudy in.  
  
“I’ll just have to hope my screams don’t keep my new friends awake, then,” Rudy said, deadpan. He listened to Chip’s brief directions to the dorm and grabbed his bag.  
  
 “Ha, that kid’s a joker,” said Chip, a slightly wild look in his eyes, as Rudy walked away from him. He reached out for the pass Mike was holding and very obviously forced a smile. “Welcome! Here, I’ll check you in.”  
  
Mike smiled at him uncertainly, and allowed Chip to scan his credentials and transfer the welcome documents onto his PADD. “Third floor, look for number 13 and then for your name on the door-plate for your individual room,” said Pierre as Ree offered him her PADD. He smiled and waved them in.  
  
“Well, Rudy Miller is something, all right,” said Ree, doubtfully, as they moved away from the two RAs and followed their instructions. “I’m not sure that I agree that the right description is ‘joker’. I hope he doesn’t scream a lot at the door sign just to make a point.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure I know one thing he is,” said Mike, sighing, as they entered the elevator.  Ree looked at him questioningly, and he held up his PADD with the screen showing his room assignment. “My room-mate.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HERE SLEEPS THE BIGGEST TWIT IN STARFLEET

Two weeks later, Mike flopped face down on his bed in the room he was sharing with Rudy Miller and sighed deeply. He lay there for a minute or two, breathing into the stuffy darkness of his pillow, before rolling over onto his back.  
  
A soft chirrup from the terminal on his desk interrupted his mindless contemplation of the weird damp mark on the ceiling above his bed. With a sigh he rolled to a seated position and checked the screen. Once he read the name of the caller, he moved more enthusiastically to answer the call: “Adam!” he said, as the screen lit up.  
  
His former roommate and best friend grinned at him. “Hey, I caught you in for once!” Adam said.  
  
“Yeah, I—“ Mike paused, and coughed. He held a hand up to Adam. “Two seconds, let me get a drink of water first.”  
  
When he sat back down in front of the screen a few moments later, Adam frowned at him. “Campus crud?” he asked.  
  
Mike shook his head. “No, that was last week,” he said, more huskily than usual. “Good to know even the mighty Starfleet can’t stop the common campus cold. No, this is what three hours of Klingon does to my throat.”  
  
Adam winced. “Ugh, I can’t believe you decided to take more Klingon.”  
  
“Ree convinced me,” Mike said. “Plus it’s fun. I can insult your mother in fourteen of the eighty modern dialects of Klingon and the two classic pre-Imperial forms of Klingon now.”  
  
“Useful!” said Adam, with a laugh. “What about the other sixty-six dialects?”  
  
“Yeah, you just spit on people or grunt meaningfully in those,” said Mike, grinning. “Either that or it’s taken as read that your existence in their presence is an insult to their mother.”  
  
“Well, at least I won’t be the one quizzing you with flashcards this year,” Adam said, though he looked almost nostalgic for a second.  
  
“Aww, I was planning to send you some so you could help me study over the comm,” said Mike. “I know you miss being covered in spit while I practice my vocabulary.”  
  
Adam made a face at him. “Yeah, no,” he said. “You can get Ree to help you. She’s some kind of genius at Klingon anyway, right? Maybe it’ll rub off on you.”  
  
“I hope so,” said Mike, fervently. “You should hear her in class. The rest of us are still stumbling through trying to get our mouths around the consonants in pre-Imperial war accords and she’s all, oh, I know what will help, I’ll recite some ancient battle poetry. You know, to show you how it’s done. Even the professor can’t believe how incredible her accent is.”  
  
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a major crush,” said Adam, laughing at him.  
  
“On her brain, I definitely do,” agreed Mike. “She’s great. It’s so dumb I didn’t get to know her last year when I was in Advanced Klingon with her. You’d really like her too.”  
  
“Eh, you know how it is,” said Adam. “You already had your friends, she had hers…”  
  
“Yeah, but now it’s us together with all these people who’ve been on campus and in class together for three years already,” said Mike, with a wry twist of his lips.  
  
Adam looked sympathetic. “Still pretty unfriendly then?” he said.  
  
“Not really unfriendly,” said Mike, slowly. “Or, mostly not, there’s always an asshole or two. But nobody’s really friendly either. Like you said, they’ve already got their friends and their study groups, and you know, it’s their final year, nobody’s really interested in getting to know the new people.”  
  
“And the assholes?” said Adam.  
  
Mike shrugged. “Yeah, well. There’s a few people really not very happy about Ree blowing the curve already in Klingon,” he said. “And Piotr was telling me it’s the same in a couple of his navigation classes. I mean, we were all picked because we had the best grades on the regional campuses, so I don’t know why anyone would be surprised that we’re getting good grades here, but…”  
  
“But there’s always an asshole or two,” said Adam, sympathetically.  
  
Mike nodded, and there was a second or two of silence while Mike almost ached with homesickness for Adam’s uncomplicated company and the dorm room they’d shared for three years, which he could just see beyond Adam’s shoulder.  
  
He cleared his throat before he could get too maudlin. “Er, interesting décor your new roommate has going on,” he said, nodding at the wall just visible behind Adam, which had some sort of giant posters stuck to it. “I guess he finally arrived on campus, then?”  
  
Adam groaned and put his face in his hands. “You need to come back after the first semester like you said you would,” he told Mike. “Either Bugs is going to get me killed or I’m going to kill him, I’m not sure which.”  
  
Mike blinked at him. “I thought your roommate was called Potter. Daniel, or something?”  
  
“David,” said Adam, gloomily. “Turns out his nickname is Bugs. He won’t answer to anything else.”  
  
“What’s wrong with him?” said Mike. “Where even was he the first week and a half?”  
  
Adam groaned. “He was on the Nickaninny,” he said, naming a small science vessel. “Doing what, I don’t even know. All he’ll say is that it was the most.”  
  
“The most what?” said Mike.  
  
“Just the most,” said Adam, sighing. “It’s all he ever says about anything. Great sandwich? The most. Deployment on a science ship? The most. New obscure band I need to listen to right now and give him my thoughts about? The most. You’d never know he was Comms track, since his vocabulary is eighty percent saying that things are the most.”  
  
Mike started laughing.  
  
“And the worst thing,” Adam said, tragically. “The absolute worst, is that after just four days of it, I’ve started to say it too! He’s like a disease!”  
  
“No!” said Mike, still chuckling.  
  
“By the time you come home to E-Can, it’s all I’ll say, I’m pretty sure,” said Adam. “Come back and rescue me from myself!”  
  
Before Mike could respond, however, he heard the door to the room click shut, and, startled, turned to look at Rudy Miller, who was standing just in the entry way. “Oh,” Mike said, in surprise. He looked at the door, which he hadn’t heard open. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”  
  
“I’ve got to go in a minute anyway,” said Adam, catching sight of Mike’s room-mate looming in the background. He nodded at Rudy on screen. “Miller.”  
  
“Webb,” said Rudy expressionlessly, moving away from the door. He and Adam had shared a class at some point, apparently, so Rudy was at least passingly familiar with Mike’s best friend from back home. Not that that made him any friendlier: he set his bag down on his bed and turned his back on Adam and Mike’s conversation.  
  
Adam made exaggerated faces at Mike on screen, and Mike grinned at him. “You’ve got class?” he said. “That’s a late start.”  
  
“Bugs is making me go to some kind of music thing,” Adam said. “Takindan something or other. I’m meeting him there.”  
  
Mike raised his eyebrows. “Aren’t Takindan speech frequencies out of the range of human hearing?” he said, bemused. “I mean, I know you’ve got the whole…” Mike broke off and waved a hand around his ears. “But I’m pretty sure it’s out of your range of hearing too. And Potter, Bugs, whatever, is human from what you said.”  
  
“Yeah, I don’t know, it’s experimental, apparently?” Adam shrugged at him. “I told you, it’ll probably all end in death.”  
  
 “Well, enjoy,” Mike said dubiously. “Remember that bleeding from the ears is considered rude in most cultures!”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” said Adam. “Talk to you soon!”  
  
He waved, and the screen went blank. Mike sat back in his seat and sighed. After a minute or two he spent just staring at the blank screen and letting himself miss Adam, and the E-Can campus and home, he stood up.  
  
Rudy was sitting on his bed, clicking through messages on his PADD. “Hey,” said Mike. “Good day?”  
  
Rudy shrugged. “The usual,” he said, bland as ever. “You?”  
  
“Yeah, three hours of Klingon so I’ve no spit left,” Mike said, absently, emptying his bag in search of his own PADD.  
  
“Charming,” said Rudy. Mike winced, and gave up on conversation.  
  
He’d been surprised how quickly he and Rudy had settled into their living arrangements, as far as sharing a room was concerned. They seemed to have similar standards of neatness, and neither of them had brought a lot of clutter. True, Rudy had actually almost allowed his face to have an expression when he saw Mike’s guitar arrive, his parents having shipped it and a few of Mike’s bulkier possessions to him separately. Mike had taken to practicing elsewhere as a result. Other than that though, they were shockingly compatible as far as sleeping hours, noise levels and other potential points of contention were concerned.  
  
Still, overall Rudy was cold and uninterested in anything to do with Mike almost, but not quite, to the point of rudeness. Mike kept trying, even though after two weeks he normally would have thought that it was time to give up, because every so often it seemed like Rudy was making an effort too. As a case in point:  
  
“Webb isn’t human?” said Rudy, breaking the silence.  
  
Mike turned back to him, surprised.  
  
Rudy raised a shoulder a half inch at him. “You said something about his hearing,” he said.  
  
“Oh,” said Mike. “He’s mostly human. One of his grandparents is from Elorus Prime, but it seems like genetically the human side of things is mostly dominant in his family. His hearing range is a bit extended and he has a couple of other little quirks, but you wouldn’t really know just by looking at him.”  
  
Rudy nodded.  
  
“One thing I do envy,” Mike continued absently, as he started to re-arrange his notes from class. “He has absolutely perfect pitch, like all Elorians. You wouldn’t think it would be a big thing, but it’s hugely useful because so many species use pitch as a signifier in language. If you ever go to Elorus Prime, it’s actually kind of amazing, like being in an old-fashioned musical. At big occasions like weddings, it’s like a whole opera thing, all the guests harmonizing while the people getting married sing their promises. Even just greeting someone is like _Hi! How nice to see you!_ "  
  
Mike broke off, mortified to have just sung a few words in illustration to his room-mate. He risked a glance at Rudy, who was watching him with his usual blank expression, except for one raised eyebrow. “Uh,” he said. “Sorry. Language nerd.”  
  
“Yes,” said Rudy, flatly.  
  
Mike grinned at him nervously. “Well, at least I wasn’t reciting Klingon battle accords,” he said. “So much spitting.”  
  
“I’m sure I’m very relieved,” said Rudy.  
  
Mike waited, but Rudy didn’t say anything else. Finally, a little unnerved, Mike started to re-pack his bag. “Ree and Kai and Kith and I and maybe Danielle and Piotr are headed out to eat, wanna come?” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. The others wouldn’t be thrilled if Rudy came along, but they’d deal. “Or are you going to fight with the replicator again?”  
  
Rudy, somehow, had managed to alienate both the replicator itself, which Mike could have sworn wasn’t even an AI before now, and also, maybe more importantly, the people at the office who managed the cadet dorm replicators. Every day was an interesting battle between them as a result.  
  
Rudy seemed almost to sigh. “I’m meeting my Command Ethics study group,” he said.  
  
“Oh,” said Mike. “Sounds good. I haven’t been able to find study groups for all my classes yet.”  
  
“My group includes Martins,” said Rudy, without any particular emphasis.  
  
“Oh,” said Mike again. “Uh, well.”  
  
“Quite,” said Rudy.  
  
Mike couldn’t help it. He grinned hugely at Rudy, who inclined his head at him. “See you later then,” Mike said, and with a wave, he left.  
  
Outside, in the small lounge of dormitory 13, he glanced around at the doors that led to the other five rooms shared by the other E-Can Capstones. He was just about to sit down on a sofa when the door to the room Ree was sharing with Danielle opened and she stepped out. “Hey, ready?” she said. “We’re meeting the others at the mess.”  
  
Mike nodded and shouldered his bag again. As he swung around, he suddenly caught sight of the name plaque on one of the other doors, and started giggling.  
  
“What?” said Ree, and he pointed, still laughing.  
  
Just then, the main door to the dorm swung open and Jacob Martins came in. “Webster, Singh,” he said, frowning at them. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Uh,” said Mike, still laughing. “Just leaving!”  
  
He and Ree rushed for the main door, past Martins' room, where the electronic door plate read, HERE SLEEPS THE BIGGEST TWIT IN STARFLEET, rather than the usual announcement of name and rank.

  
As the door swing shut behind them, they started laughing again at the sound of Martins’ outraged yell: “MILLER!”


End file.
